Paris is not a dream. This is graffitied on a wall on Rue Ordener, in the north of the 18th Arrondissement. It makes me smile every time I see it—but the kind of smile that comes after you kick someone's ass. Like Daffy in the graffiti artwork. The artist's message is more than a gentle reminder that the poor will not be ignored.
For millions of Parisians, Paris is hard reality. In fact, beyond Daffy’s wall, are some of the toughest neighborhoods you'll find inside the périphérique. It’s in these streets I earned my stripes as a kid, and as a cop. I love these neighborhoods; they’re more colorful, more raw, more diverse—more human. In a city scrubbed clean by Haussmann, where 90% of the architecture looks the same—row upon row of white stone buildings with gray slate roofs—these neighborhoods remind you that there's a real city out there. The perfection of Paris can be suffocating; the streets of the 18th and 19th are where I can breath the fresh air of real life.
This graffiti artwork embodies my life in Paris—as a former homeless kid and as a cop now. Bright and dark. The message cuts like a blade, but the image of a scrappy Daffy Duck makes me laugh. Life needs to embrace both sides—light makes shadow happen, and darkness gives light a purpose. I wish more people would wake up to the reality of this simple truth. But the City of Light still hides its dark parts behind walls so it can live in a dreamworld.
